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The structures themselves were marvels of engineering and artistry.

Carved directly into the living rock, they seemed to grow from the canyon walls themselves.

Intricate patterns decorated doorways and windows, while colorful fabrics hung from terraces and balconies, adding splashes of vibrant blue, red, and gold to the warm tones of the stone.

Gardens flourished wherever space allowed—small plots of vegetables and herbs, fruit trees heavy with produce, flowering vines that cascaded down the rock faces.

The stream that wound through the canyon’s center had been streamed into irrigation channels that brought life to every corner of the settlement.

“This is our home,” Oshrun said, pride edging into her voice. “Hidden from the world for generations. Safe from those who would harm us.”

Naya stared in wonder at the thriving community. “How much of what Akoro said was true?” She turned to Oshrun. “Were you really banished? Forced out of the society because of the nnin-eellithi ?”

Oshrun hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. “Everything he said was true but he left out a crucial part of the history, which changes the perspective. Some of the history he couldn’t know. Other things he does, and he chose to withhold that from you.”

“You said he’d hurt you,” Naya almost blurted out, unable to hold it in. “That he hurts all Omegas. Is that true?”

“Would it be so hard to believe?” Oshrun said, arching a brow as she shot Naya a sideways glance. “He’s already been hurting you.”

Naya clamped her mouth shut, bitterness in her throat. She couldn’t argue with that.

“There is something you should see first,” Oshrun said, continuing further in the tour and beckoning Naya to follow.

She led Naya down a winding path that descended into the valley.

Women paused in their activities to look at her, their expressions ranging from curiosity to outright suspicion.

Many wore their hair in similar styles to Oshrun’s—intricate braids adorned with beads, shells, and small metal ornaments that caught the light.

Their clothing was practical yet beautifully crafted—tunics, skirts, and loose pants in earthy brown, red and stone tones, embellished with intricate embroidery and accented with jewelry made from polished stones and carved bone.

They reached a structure larger than the others, its entrance marked by two towering stone pillars carved with symbols that Naya didn’t recognize.

Inside, the space opened into a circular chamber where sunlight streamed in through a natural opening in the rock ceiling.

The walls were covered in paintings and etchings.

At the center of the chamber stood a large stone table, its surface worn smooth by generations of use. Oshrun approached it, running her hand along its edge with a reverence that spoke of its importance.

“You asked about the ‘normal way’ to travel between our lands,” she said, turning to face Naya. “This is it. At least, it was.”

Naya stepped closer, examining the table.

At first glance, it appeared to be simply a large slab of stone.

But as she looked more carefully, she noticed intricate patterns carved into its surface—spirals and shapes that seemed to flow and connect in ways that made her eyes water if she stared too long. But she recognized the symbols.

“This is a portal?” she asked, looking up at Oshrun.

“It is a gateway, yes.” She traced one of the patterns with her finger. “These are not just decorations. They are instructions, written in a language foreign to most in Tsashokra.”

Naya’s heart quickened. “The Ancient Tongue.”

Oshrun’s eyes snapped to her. “Yes. You know it?”

“Yes. When I escaped from King Sy, I used the Ancient Tongue verbally to control the wild magic.”

A murmur of surprise rose from the entrance to the chamber, and Naya turned to see that several Omegas had gathered there, listening intently to their conversation.

“That explains a lot,” Oshrun said thoughtfully. “Few outsiders know the language, fewer still can wield it effectively.” She studied Naya with renewed interest. “Tell me, this Empire of Lox you speak of, where exactly is it located?”

“Very far,” Naya said. “I don’t know what direction it’s in but Akoro—King Sy—had to take me to a sand drift to create a portal to go there.”

Something shifted in Oshrun’s expression, a subtle tightening around her eyes. “The Known Lands,” she said, her voice suddenly cool. “You are from the Known Lands.”

The way she said it made it clear there was history here.

“Yes,” Naya said, cautiously. “I am the daughter of Emperor Drocco and Empress Cailyn of the Lox Empire.”

“It used to be called the Eastern Lands?”

“Yes.”

A hush fell over the chamber. Oshrun’s face had gone completely still, her eyes burning with an emotion Naya couldn’t quite place.

“So,” she said finally, her voice low and controlled. “History repeats itself after all.”

She turned away abruptly, addressing the gathered Omegas in their native tongue. Though Naya couldn’t understand the words, the tone was clear—urgent, commanding. The women dispersed quickly, their movements efficient and purposeful.

Oshrun turned back to Naya, her expression once again composed, as she moved to the other end of the chamber and leaned her staff against the wall.

“This is our history,” she said, gesturing to a section of the wall covered in detailed etchings, “not the history King Sy consoles himself with, but the truth as we have lived it.”

The etchings depicted many different scenes—from conflict to peace, and seemingly everything in between.

“Long ago, the Tri-Dynasty had created the perfect balance of life here in the Tsashokra region,” Oshrun explained, walking back over to her.

“The Vos were architects, builders, cultivators. They created beauty and sustenance. The Qor were warriors, protectors. And the Sy—” Her voice hardened.

“The Sy were merchants and magicians, enhancing life but always seeking more power, more control.”

Naya nodded. That aligned with what Akoro had said.

Oshrun tapped on a scene at the beginning of the section, showing a couple embracing.

One was much smaller than the other and smaller figures, probably children, surrounded them.

“Life was good for Alphas and Omegas too. Over sixty percent of couples were true mate pairings and society benefited from the contributions and efforts of both dynamics.”

Naya’s eyes widened. She hadn’t even thought to ask Akoro about the Alpha and Omega situation during the Tri-Dynasty era.

The wild magic would have been confined to the Nnin-kaa Sands during that time, so Omegas wouldn’t have attracted it, which meant they would’ve been part of society.

She moved closer to the wall, peering at the scene.

Sixty percent of true mate couples was an extremely high number.

This society had to have been thriving, with lots of children and lots of true Alphas and Omegas.

Maybe that was why they’d had so many great achievements over such a huge region.

“When the Sy Dynasty became more powerful than the other two dynasties,” Oshrun continued, “the Vos and Qor weren’t paying enough attention to what was happening out in the region of Tsashokra.”

“What do you mean?” Naya asked. “What was happening?”

Oshrun’s finger moved to another scene—larger figures clustered around a smaller figure. “Omegas were disappearing. At first it seemed like there was no pattern to them. But it was always single Omegas born to small families, usually between the ages of thirteen and twenty.”

Naya stared at her, dread creeping into her veins. Omegas had been disappearing years ago in her land, too, except they had disappeared during childhood, before they could even present as an Omega. The Mothers had been responsible for that.

“Tsashokra is a large region,” Oshrun continued.

“Bigger than your Lox Empire but with a less united structure. Onn Kkulma City was the celebrated and greatly loved heart of the region—the central focus—but there were many other cities and villages and towns spread across the land that the dynasties didn’t pay enough attention to. ”

Naya inclined her head. That made sense. Uniting such a big landmass was difficult, as she and Akoro had talked about when he questioned her about the empire.

Oshrun’s finger dragged along the wall to a new scene. It showed a female in chains.

“The Sy Dynasty was kidnapping Omegas from around the regions, ones they thought wouldn’t be greatly missed.

They were keeping them as forced laborers.

” Oshrun’s jaw went hard. “They would tell them that they could work for two years to pay off some imagined debt, but in reality they kept them for the rest of their lives.”

“They were slaves,” Naya muttered grimly.

“Yes.”

She glanced at Oshrun, her lips pressed together in annoyance. “But why would they do this? Especially to Omegas. The region was thriving with Alpha and Omega couples, why disrupt that?”

Oshrun turned to face her, her jaw tight. “The Sy Dynasty’s revered magical prowess, their artifacts, the portals, even their ability to bind wild magic—none of it was their creation.”

Naya frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Who do you think was behind the Sy Dynasty’s magical achievements?

Who do you think created all their magical tools and amazing inventions?

” Oshrun’s eyes darkened as she traced her finger over the etched figures on the wall.

“It was us. Only Omegas can craft tools using magic.” Her voice rasped like gritty sand over stone and as she fixed Naya with a stare that seemed to pierce straight through to her soul.

“And they harvested that ability through blood, pain, slavery, and death.”

Naya stared at her, shock arcing into her, her stomach dropping like an iron weight. She leaned back, her fingers pressed against the cold stone wall for support.